


The Darkest Dreams

by SerenityFalconNormandy



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age (Video Games)
Genre: Andrastianism (Dragon Age), Broodmothers (Dragon Age), Gen, Martyrdom, Nightmares, OC Child Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-30 13:35:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17829557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SerenityFalconNormandy/pseuds/SerenityFalconNormandy
Summary: Drabble Challenge, featuring all three of my OCs.The nightmares that hound the Warden, Champion, and Inquisitor.





	The Darkest Dreams

(Two years after the Archdemon’s fall)

 

_She struggled to move back and forth, the heavy weight of her belly making her steps slow and shuffling. Gwyneth couldn’t wait for this to be over._

 

_Gwyn had expected having a child with Alistair to be joyful, that she would be warm, safe, and loved. Instead, she was cold and alone, and weighed down, until she dragged to a stop and hunched over._

 

_The resonant, bellowing scream tore from her as she struggled, until the child emerged from her._

 

_Blinking with horror, Gwyn recoiled. The toddler Shriek grinned at her, its sharp, pointed teeth making the expression all the more grotesque before she hunched over and another slid free._

 

_Flailing away from them, she found she couldn’t move, her feet were attached to the floor. Gwyn raised trembling fingers and took in the signs of advanced Blight sickness, the pale, ghoulish flesh and thready black veins._

 

**_Now she does feast, as she's become the beast._ **

 

_She began screaming, terrible cries growing louder and higher as her litter was born._

 

The palace maids assigned to the Lady Chancellor glanced at each other with wide eyes.

 

They were too terrified to ask what kind of nightmares could make their mistress scream like that.

 

* * *

  


(A year after Trespasser)

 

_Marian clutched Maureva to her chest, whispering, “It’s okay, my Ladybird, Mumma’s got you.”_

 

_Tears poured down her cheeks. Fenris was gone. No one could survive being run through like that, or being trampled over by a horde of Templars in full armor. They had murdered him to get to Maureva and take her daughter away. She would die before she allowed that._

 

_Starkhaven was supposed to be safe. Circles were supposed to be voluntary. What had changed?_

 

_She couldn’t stop the scream when the door to their hidden room was kicked in, turning and using her body to shield Maureva from the Smites. Marian was struggling to breathe as her baby was torn from her arms._

 

_“No! Maureva! Why? The Circles--”_

 

_Cullen stared down at her with cold eyes. “Divine Victoria has seen reason at last. Grand Enchanter Vivienne issued orders that all apostate children be brought in.”_

 

_He handed Maureva to Solona, who smiled beatifically at Marian, the Chantry sunburst blooming fresh on her forehead._

 

_“Don’t worry, Cousin. She’ll be at peace and no danger to anyone soon enough.”_

 

Fenris found Marian in Maureva’s room that morning, dark circles under her eyes, clutching their daughter’s hand.

 

* * *

  


(Two weeks after Corypheus’s defeat)

 

_Rough hands dragged Fen’lath from her bed, tearing her from her sleep._

_  
_ _Half-awake, bedraggled in her nightshirt and leggings, she stumbled between the soldiers on either side of her._

 

_“What? Where are you taking me?”_

 

_Silent, they tugged her through Skyhold’s Great Hall into the courtyard, where a great pyre was being set out._

 

_Mother Giselle stood at the fore, a satisfied expression on her face. “Thank you, Herald. Your work is done, and now it is time for you to return to the Maker and his Bride.”_

 

_Fen stared, “Excuse me?”_

 

_“The Breach is sealed, and Corypheus has been defeated. You have fulfilled the purpose the Maker set out for you.” The Mother gestured, Fen began to struggle as the two soldiers dragged her forward and bound her to the stake that had been erected in the middle of the pyre._

 

_“I’m not anyone’s Herald! Let go of me!” Her nails broke as she clawed the stake, trying to reach the rough jute binding her wrists, “Please, Mother Giselle, I’m not the Herald of Andraste. I’m a Dalish elf, I don’t even believe in the Maker!”_

 

_Fen was desperate as the Mother came forward to kiss her on the cheeks._

 

_Mother Giselle smirked, “I know.”_

 

_She stepped back and signaled for the torches to be set to the pyre._

 

Fen couldn’t help but avoid Mother Giselle even more after that.

  



End file.
